Tough Love
by Rimba
Summary: Snifflenose is pretty much typical. Struggling with his love and secrets. Then he gets in a fight with his best friend, and maybe even finds his true "wuv" in WindClan, in the form of a spunky ginger cat. Things are hard--that's just tough love. ON HOLD!
1. The Foxes

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Warriors_.**

Cold rain pattered on smooth granite, dripping off the edges and onto the grass. A tortoiseshell cat looked around, blood dripping from his sliced nose-bridge. Another cat, a long-haired gray tom, shouted, "Snifflenose, this is hopeless. Xai and Kruel are foxes!"

Impatiently Snifflenose shook his head, scattering scarlet drops on the rocks. "Xai and Kruel may have muscle, but they lack brains, Silverstripe," he meowed confidently. He pricked his ears and shook himself, water splashing the already muddy ground.

A huge red vixen burst from the bracken, white tail-tip waving madly. She howled and grabbed a white she-cat by the scruff. "_Whitecloud_!" Snifflenose yowled as the sweet cat was hurled against a tree.

The medicine cat burst from the bushes, shaking rain from his pelt as he ran. He picked Whitecloud up by the scruff of her neck and dragged her back into the camp, nodding for the others to follow. Reluctantly Snifflenose bounded after the medicine cat, blood still dripping from his nose. He could hear the patter of Silverstripe's paws beside him.

Snifflenose's thin pelt was in soaked clumps now as he shook water from his eyes. Silverstripe looked sympathetically at him; he knew how much Snifflenose loved the beautiful white she-cat. The mottled brown medicine tomcat padded out of an overhang of rock. "Well, Brownpelt?" asked Snifflenose. "Will she be okay?"

Brownpelt shrugged his shoulders. "She's in shock, I can see that. But her pelt is so wet and ragged that I can't find anything else." Without answering, Snifflenose brushed past the medicine cat and hurried under the overhang, liking the feel of warmth that touched his fur.

There was no time to enjoy the dry. Feverishly he licked at the she-cat's thick snowy pelt, pushing it the wrong way to find the water trapped under her hair. Whitecloud didn't move. Brownpelt moved into the den and meowed, "Look at yourself, Snifflenose. You are trying to help a cat that will never love you, and yet you still hope. Is that fair?"

With a hiss, Snifflenose rounded on him and aimed a swipe at Brownpelt's ear. The tom ducked, dodging it, and the young warrior boxed him on the nose with a strong front paw.

Brownpelt head-butted Snifflenose in the stomach as he reared up, and pinned him down. "Snifflenose, I will not tolerate temper tantrums. Now leave. Sharkstar shall hear about this."

With a sigh, the tortoiseshell tom plodded off toward the warriors' den, an abandoned fox burrow that was cozily large. He couldn't hear anything but thunder as the drizzle turned into a flat-out downpour. The tom shook his fur under a bent clump of bracken and squeezed into the hole. Snifflenose kneaded his nest of moss in discomfort and lay down to sleep, his chin rested on his extra-furry paws.

A white-silver she-cat pushed herself into the nearly empty den. Her deep blue gaze bored into Snifflenose's skin until he had to look away. "Attacking a medicine cat?" Sharkstar meowed, breaking the silence. "Snifflenose, I'm disappointed in you. Although you have been a warrior only one moon, you should have more respect."

"Sorry," Snifflenose mumbled. He shuffled his white forepaws, and wished he could say _Brownpelt had no right to say Whitecloud would never love me!_

"Snifflenose, are you listening?" Sharkstar snapped. Snifflenose's head jerked. "You're on hunting duty till sunrise. I expect fresh-kill, not a dead cat."

He bit back an angry protest, and rose to his paws. As he walked out of the den, Silverstripe bounded toward him and their noses collided painfully. Nose throbbing, Snifflenose headed into the woods, thinking it would be impossible to find fresh-kill in this weather.

Then he spotted a squirrel, feverishly trying to collect nuts and seeds before it was fully drenched. He dropped into a hunter's crouch and moved forward, knowing the aching of his weary limbs would be a disadvantage. Thankfully, the squirrel was too busy nibbling on a seed that it didn't hear Snifflenose. He killed the squirrel and kicked earth over it.

When sunrise came, a small shaft of sunlight poured through the clouds, and Snifflenose headed back to camp, his thin catches held firmly in his jaws. Silverstripe raced over when he saw his friend shivering uncontrollably. "Great StarClan, Snifflenose, I think you've caught a really bad chill. Or cold," he mewed.

Snifflenose collapsed, his limbs weary and stiff. Brownpelt bounded toward him. "Can you walk?" he asked. Snifflenose nodded and tried to stand, but fell into a silent black hole.

**O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O**

His eyes flew open. The white-pawed tortoiseshell moved his paws frantically, then sat up. His stomach flipped over and he retched. Snifflenose rolled onto his back, feeling like he would retch again at any moment.

Brownpelt opened his eyes and yawned. "Here, eat this. It should help with your cold." Snifflenose ate a weird-looking bulb, disgusted by the taste. "How do you f-f-f-feel?" the medicine cat asked, stifling another yawn.

"Fine, I suppose," he grunted, heaving himself onto his paws. Dizzily, he fell back onto his side. Brownpelt shook his head. "Don't be a fool, Snifflenose. You won't be able to resume your duties for half a moon."

"_What_?" Snifflenose shrieked.


	2. Kittykin?

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Warriors_.**

Three moonwakings later, Snifflenose looked around the medicine cat's den. He felt sicker and dizzier than ever. His cold was getting worse, and Brownpelt was growing more worried with every passing heartbeat.

He barely felt strong enough to walk. He had just grudgingly stomached some herbs, and miraculously (well, not so miraculously, considering he'd done it about six times) he hadn't retched. With a groan, Snifflenose rolled over onto his back, and stretched his forelegs out. This was disgusting. He was going to go crazy, and then nobody could help him, and they'd all say, _If only we'd let him out of the medicine cat's den earlier!_

He shrugged off his fantasizing and stood up to stretch again. Suddenly, an image of a white tortoiseshell with brown paws flashed in his mind's eye. Confused, Snifflenose wondered for a moment, and then settled down. It had to be some random cat not in ThunderClan—right?

"Whatever," he muttered to himself. He licked a paw and drew it over his ear, still thinking. The cat looked oddly like him—the same long, thick tail, the same huge paws that amazingly didn't make him clumsy, and the same big, smart eyes. It was creepy, in a certain way; where had that picture come from? And if he knew the cat, why did it suddenly turn up?

These were the most stumping questions the warrior had come upon. Desperate to figure them out, he lay for many long heartbeats, thinking hard. "Snifflenose. Snifflenose. Snifflenose!"

His head jerked and he turned to look into the bright, intelligent eyes of Brownpelt. "It's nearly midnight, Snifflenose. You should be sleeping. Goodnight now." He drew the vines over the crack in the stone and padded further into the den to sleep.

Snifflenose grunted and closed his eyes. Sleep came over him almost instantly, and he was still wondering about that cat.

**O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O**

"WAAAAAKKKKEEEE UUUUUUP, SNIFFLENOSE!" a voice shrieked. Snifflenose groaned and flattened his ears. "Silverstripe, let me sleep," he groaned drowsily.

"Open your eyes, sleepyhead. It's been half a moon! Get up! You can resume your duties!" Silverstripe cried joyfully.

Snifflenose was wide awake. He stood and stretched, finally noticing the grumbling of his belly. Since he hadn't been very active, he had been less hungry, and Brownpelt's herbs kept his hunger curbed. "You hungry?" he yawned.

"'Course," Silverstripe mewed. Snifflenose padded after him and realized the rest of the Clan hadn't even woken up yet. He looked sternly at his friend, who shrugged mischievously. They began picking through last night's leftovers. Silverstripe chose a thrush and Snifflenose took a vole.

Snifflenose finished his fresh-kill in two gulps and his comrade watched him weirdly. He stretched and began running in circles to warm up his frost-tipped fur. Silverstripe ate the thrush in a few more bites and he ran to join him. "C'mon, Silverstripe. Let's do an early morning patrol," Snifflenose meowed.

The gray tom nodded his big tabby head and they set off into the forest. The tortoiseshell felt rather chilled, and suddenly stopped. "What is it?" Silverstripe asked, turning to look at him.

Snifflenose opened his mouth to speak, but a loud mew silenced him. A big white tortoiseshell tackled him. He stared into an intelligent green eye, and then a clouded gray-blue one. Even though this she-cat wore a collar and was trembling with fear, she hissed bravely, "What are you doing so close to my fence?"

"You're a kittypet!" Snifflenose hissed. Suddenly he remembered—she was his _sister_! "P-Paris?" he stammered, staring into the blind eye of his sibling.

Paris lifted a brown paw. "_Benny_?" she gasped. "Goodness, Benny, you're terribly skinny! Are your housefolk feeding you enough?"

Silverstripe was watching the scene with a look of awed horror on his face. The sun glowed on his fur and lit up his eyes, and he only blinked twice.

"I'm not _Benny_," Snifflenose growled, pushing Paris off of him. "I'm Snifflenose, and I live in the forest, with all the other forest cats." He could see the shock in Paris's eyes as she clambered to her paws.

"You're a _forest cat_?" Paris mewed, backing up suddenly. Her face hardened in anger. "M-my Twolegs will do away with scum like you!" She raced to her fence and let out a shrill squeal.


	3. The Truth is Hurtful

**I know, I know…I'm SO sorry I've haven't updated. Everything has messed up, 'cause my parents divorced, then my friend tossed me to the curb…So PLEASE forgive me!**

**Also Gingertail is in honor of my dog Ginger that died at age 3 when hit by a car. It wasn't the car, really, that killed her…she lost too much blood. So Gingertail is a WindClan cat now. I know she loved to run…**

**--------**

Snifflenose and Silverstripe exchanged anxious glances. "Well, whatever happens," Snifflenose said finally, "it can't be good." The tortoiseshell and the gray toms darted behind a tree as the horrid Twolegs opened the gate and lumbered out, looking around with their flabby pink faces. One Twoleg, with long dark fur on her head, reached down and picked Paris up, pulling her into a loving hug. Both the cats tensed.

As the Twolegs began to carry the brown queen away, she looked back and gave them a dirty look, hissing. Silverstripe finally recovered and stared at Snifflenose. "_Benny?_" he exclaimed. "What? You were named Snifflekit!"

The tortoiseshell winced. "Well, you know how I was two days older?" The silver tom nodded. "Well, yeah…in that time they named me Snifflekit. I'm _sorry _I didn't tell you; Sharkstar swore me to secrecy. Anyway, it wasn't Puddlefur who was my father…actually, it was Brownpelt." He hung his head. "That's why he's so stern with me."

"So if Brownpelt was your father, who was your mother?" Silverstripe mewed, looking confused.

"_Mother?_" Snifflenose grimaced and sighed. "I'm not Paris's _pure _brother. I'm her half. Different father. My mother was Frostfeather. She didn't just feed me." He flattened his ears for the piercing scream that followed.

"But Frostfeather is _my _mother! Only mine and Graybelly's! I was her first litter!" he screeched.

"Yeah…not so much. And I'm not two days older, either. Same age." Snifflenose gave a weak smile. "Frostfeather told Paris I was Benny."

"So…so…that means I'm Paris's quarter-brother, and _your _half-brother!"

Snifflenose nodded. "Uh…shall we hunt while you process this?" Weakly Silverstripe agreed, and they began stalking prey.

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Snifflenose padded back to camp with two squirrels and a sparrow clutched in his teeth. Silverstripe trotted behind him, three mice and two voles filling his jaws so he could barely breathe, let alone speak. But his friend guessed he didn't want to talk. He was almost fuming.

"Well, it looks like you've made quite a successful hunt!" purred Frostfeather happily. Silverstripe dropped his catches on the fresh-kill pile, and even then didn't reply. She looked worried, but when her other son gave her a meaningful look, she gasped.

"Oh, Silverstripe, dear, I wanted to tell you so much…" she mewed in the gray cat's ear. Silverstripe hissed and pushed her away.

"Really? Why didn't you?" he snarled. Cats' heads lifted in concern. "Because you're too…" He paused and looked at her with fire in his eyes. "Because you think I'm too young to keep a secret!"

Snifflenose jumped to Frostfeather's aid (no, literally, he jumped in front of Frostfeather). "Stop, Silverstripe! Just because she couldn't tell you didn't mean she doesn't love you, or that you can blame her for what's happened!"

"You're right," he meowed, straightening. His words hung in the air like ice. "But…I can blame you, you stupid half-bred medicine cat's son!" He leapt through the air and landed on the lighter cat's back, digging his claws into the tom's pelt.

"MRRRRRROWW!" Snifflenose shrieked. He bucked up as a reflex, throwing the cat off of him. Silverstripe tumbled to the ground, winded. "What's _wrong _with you?"

Sharkstar padded out of her den. "What's going on?! Snifflenose, why are you bleeding?" Snifflenose twisted around, and, sure enough, blood was welling from the cuts Silverstripe gave him.

"Silverstripe attacked him!" piped up Forestpaw, ears flattening in concern.

"Only because he defended Frostfeather, when she didn't tell me that he's half medicine cat and has a kittypet half-sister!" Silverstripe spat. All eyes turned to Snifflenose, except Sharkstar's. They remained quiet on Silverstripe.

"You all know that I came from a place very far away, where the Twoleg nests are on sand near water and giant fish eat Twolegs alive." The cats nodded. "I came, and told no one of where I was born, only that my name was Shark. But when Runningstar found out of my true origins…everyone shunned me. The reason I told none of _Snifflenose's _heritage was because I didn't want the same fate for him." Her gaze passed over the Clan, from the tiniest kit to the oldest elder. "Who here would like to be treated unfairly because of where they were born, or who they were born to?" Silence crossed the cats' faces. "Now, I—"

There was a horrified yowl as Silverstripe pounced, yet again, onto his former best friend. They writhed across camp, a ball of fur, muscle, teeth, claws, and screams of anger. Sharkstar jumped down from the Highledge, but Frostfeather's tail barred the way. "Don't get in the midst of it. Let them calm themselves."

Now, it seemed, Snifflenose had the upper paw. He raked his claws down the furious cat's belly. Silverstripe screamed, but relaxed. Snifflenose stayed stiff. "You're the one who taught me that trick, you two-faced idiot! You turn tail at the first sign of difference!" he snarled, rolling them over and over. They hit the edge of camp and stopped as pebbles rained upon them.

"Stop this _now!_" Sharkstar hissed. "Silverstripe, stay and guard camp. Snifflenose, Frostfeather, Forestpaw, Rabbittail, Brownpelt, Shadowleaf, Cinnamonfur, Blackears, Leafclaw, Juniperpool, and Morningpaw will be going to the Gathering. Let's go." The cats proceeded out.

-----------

Snifflenose sat quietly, near a group of WindClan warriors. Their fur was short and mottled, and their lean muscle stretched their pelts tight over their skin. They were passing raillery back and forth, laughing loudly.

One warrior, a strangely-colored ginger she-cat, padded over to Snifflenose. "Why are you hurt?" she asked, her voice a concerned but spunky meow. Her long, fluffy tail flicked as she awaited an answer.

"My best friend attacked me…but he's not my best friend now," he said, his mew hoarse.

"Well…I can be your best friend, if you want me to," she mewed.

"I don't even know your name," he said. "By the way, I'm Snifflenose."

"I'm Gingertail." She was about to say more when there was a yowl from the Great Oak.

Grayfoot, the WindClan deputy, sat on a branch. "_Owlstar is dead!_"

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**I hope you like it! Also, if you can guess who Owlstar's grandfather was, you get a Gingertail plushie! Is it: Onestar, Sedgewhisker (from Dark River), or Tornear? Find out in the next chapter!**


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